This year's continuing resolution: to avoid going insane due to the massive amount of hypocrasy and cognitive dissonance caused by idiots claiming to be the only Real, Loyal Americans while waving the flag of a failed armed rebellion and talking about how Trump is on the side of American farmers and laborers.
FACT: No, your great great granddaddy was not fighting a just war against a tyrannical government. It doesn't matter what he told your grandddaddy, it doesn't change the fact that the war was fought to keep rich slaveowners rich and slaves in chains, and if your gggranddaddy believed otherwise, he got suckered just as bad as you've been suckered by Trump.
FACT: Donald Trump is not a self-made genius billionaire. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the only reason he was able to keep afloat after his many business failures was because his daddy bailed him out. Repeatedly.
FACT: Donald Trump doesn't give a shit about working-class people. Or anyone else with the possible exception of a few family members. In his world, there are suckers there to be used and discarded, useful tools that should be kept on hand until their usefulness is at an end, and people who are bigger, badder predators than him that he hasn't figured out how to take down. He has no concept of bargaining in good faith or being loyal to anyone or anything beside himself. Don't believe me? Go read one of "his" books. They were written to try to make him look good, but enough of his real nature leaks through that you can start to get a feel for how utterly amoral he is.
FACT: Donald Trump is a pathological liar and/or senile. He lies for the sake of lying, and to keep everyone around him so confused that they can't keep track of all the lies, much less refute them, because there's so damn many. Even he can't keep track of them.
Ah, that's better. Nice to get all that out where hardly anybody will ever see it.
It boggles my mind that we are in a place as a nation where a significant portion of our nation are just shrugging off the idea that the Russians have been interfering with our election and are trying to do so again. How is this acceptable from any nation, much less Russia?
Don't get me wrong - I'm not saying that just as a child of the 1980s. Yes, I grew up with movie and cartoon villains with thick Russian accents. I grew up with "Red Dawn Rising" and the Cold War, and I did it on Navy bases across the world where dozens of soldiers did their best to listen in on Soviet plans and secrets. I never did buy into that "better red than dead" nonsense, and I doubt I ever will. I have nothing against the Russian people. I had a Russian roommate back when I was in college, and she was a nice girl.
However... I still remember talking about President Bush in less than complimentary terms, and seeing her almost panic. She was acting like I was juggling grenades when all I was doing was complaining about some policy or another he was creating. She acted someone was going to bust through the door of our dorm room any seconds, her eyes darting around looking for... what? Bugs? Cameras? Someone listening at our door? Who knows?
That kind of fear came about because of men like Vladimir Putin. He was part of the KGB, he undoubtedly crushed more than a few dissidents during his time in that service. I don't like Putin's ethics, or lack thereof, but I have to admit, he's canny and survival-oriented. He's experienced in deception, manipulation, and twisting peoples' perceptions of situations.
That's who we're up against. That's who is trying to take over our nation from the shadows.
And who have we got in charge on our side? A pompous, prejudiced, perjuring, perfidious prater. A man who thinks he's more intelligent than he is because he's spent his life surrounded by sycophants praising him while eyeing his wallet. A man so focused on image, and so obsessed with public acclaim and so little interested in his own personal integrity that he would sell his own mother to slavery if he could earn a buck doing it. A man who looks at the blatant cruelty, corruption and profiteering of regimes like Russia's and North Korea's and is inspired to try to bring that filth to our own country. Worse even than that, a man who is actively working against the people who are trying to protect our nation from these covert attacks. To hell with his oath to protect our nation and its citizens and uphold the Constitution - there's money in the treasury, let's see how much of it he can get to line his own pockets!
If you want to see the measure of a man, see how he acts when he's given free rein. Donald Trump has certainly shown his true colors - the yellow of a coward and the puke-green of a man whose moral compass has been broken for a very long time and is now busy spreading its cancerous rot through the body politic as fast as it can go.
False prophets Wrap themselves in flag and faith Promising to Make America Great Again As they turn swamp into sewer And soon, if the course of Our great Ship of State is not righted, Into a graveyard
Their calls of God and Country are hollow Their faith like the whited sepulchers That their Book tells them await the Pharisees
Yet their flocks follow Though the shepherds try to warn them Led to slaughter by a bell hung Round the neck of a mad dog Who snarls warnings against Those who offer safer pastures While leading the flock to slaughter
The butcher is waiting Sharp knife shining bright Thirsting to be dyed red
Some of the flock have seen it Bleating an alarm And the dog dances, barks that they lie Rings louder the bell that has led the flock So far from safe pasture And placid grazing
He howls "fake news" and "witch hunt" As the Russian Wolf who is his master Sharpens his blade, grinning Eager for the slaughter
Certain that the sheep - - Too long used to following the bell Of Faith and Flag - Will not listen to those who would Lead them away from the precipice They walk unknowingly toward
Certain that they have been blinded By decades of lies Into unthinking obedience
Into charging like bulls At the sight of the matador's cape Into entering the ring To be pricked into a red fury A rage that will be bled out of them In a thousand pinprick provocations Until the point of numbness And then... death
Will the sheep take heed of their danger And break from the lure of the bell? Will the ship change course Before it runs aground of the sharp rocks That hide beneath the stormy seas?
Will they open their sacred Book and see That their Lord would not turn away Those that like Him Fled darkness and death Nor tear children from the arms Of loving mothers and fathers?
Will they see that we are all one family And should love and aid one another Against wolves and mad dogs And false prophets?
Or will they continue to follow the bell Heed only its siren song of hate and fear? Vilify those who speak of love and unity And remind them that America is still great Is an amazing mosaic whose beauty Is born of many shades and colors Not merely red, white and blue
So, way back in the Stone Age, I mentioned Co-Irker, who seemed determined to do everything she could to be a total fuckup and piss me off... and I don't piss off easily.
However, she still managed to screw me over one more time. You see, I had arranged my schedule so that I would be off this Saturday. It's a big day in Pokemon GO, they're having the Pokemon GO Fest in Chicago and I knew that there would be all sorts of stuff going on even for the folks who can't make it to Chicago, and I was going to go to Savannah or Tybee Island or maybe even Athens to do some serious Pokemon hunting... and I have to take her shift.
Again. Because there's no one else to do it, as usual.
Which means no trip to Savannah, Tybee Island, or Athens. Which means that of the three prime times when they're going to go nuts with the Pokemon spawns, I'm going to be stuck in the library working instead of catching 10 bazillion pokemon for two of them.
And which means that I will have been working three 6-day weeks in a row and I'm fucking exhausted.
Thanks a fucking lot, Co-Irker. Have fun spending the rest of your life on welfare, and try not to raise your poor kids to be as useless as you are.
I made out quite well with the hurricane. Yes, there are plenty of people in our area who were out of power for days, or had damage to roofs and property in general - I wasn't one of them. Basically, I hung out at home with the kitties, watched anime, played games and caught up on my sleep for a day. The winds whipped the trees around, the pecans from my pecan tree wound up in my driveway and squished after I went to check on the library, but I only lost power for about an hour.
Treesville Library wasn't so lucky. We've got a metal roof, and it's always been a problem - well, this time, we had leaks in several different spots. One of the ones in the children's room wasn't too bad, a ceiling tile got soaked and fell but there wasn't anything except a lego table under it, and that was plastic so it wiped clean easily enough. The other children's room leak was more problematic, but it was one that we'd been keeping an eye on and we had nothing on the top shelf to get damaged when that one got soaked through again and disintegrated right onto the stacks.
The third leak, however, was over our public computer area, took out one computer, and almost took out a second. Another tile came down, right on top of the computer, water was actually inside the CPU case, and once it dried there was obvious crud right on the circuit boards. It probably isn't fixable, but our IT contractors are SUPPOSED to come and get it and try to salvage it. I'm not holding my breath for them to come - it's been almost a week, and they are notorious for not wanting to leave their cozy office chairs over in Boro. I understand that remote work is more efficient than coming 20 miles to flip a few switches or whatever, but "crud in the computer" is not something that can be fixed over the internet!
Fortunately, Branch got off unscathed. Even more fortunately, since we had a staff training day planned for Monday, the multipurpose room in Treesville was unscathed, which meant we didn't have to do an emergency relocation of the event - especially since our afternoon program was "familiarizing ourselves with the new equipment received through a grant" (better known as "playing with all the cool new toys") and that stuff was all at Treesville and not yet inventoried.
So, if anyone was still worrying, I'm fine, damage was minor at the libraries, and all is well with the world. Except of course that I'm trying to the job I originally had, the assistant director job, and now the branch manager's job for Branch. And CO is going to be out for at least 2 weeks for surgery, so I'll have that on my hands too while I'm trying to do training over in Branch...
Oh, and since New Manager is actually Coworker, we'll be hiring two new part-timers and THEY'LL need training.
For those of you who know where I live IRL, you may wonder if I'm safe from Hurricane Matthew. The answer is... sort of. I'm about 60 miles from the coast, but we are expecting serious wind/rain. Probably not hurricane-force, but it doesn't have to be to be dangerous.
That said, I have plenty of food, including non-perishables that don't need cooking, and the means to cook what does need cooking. I have plenty of water on hand. Kitty supplies are stocked up too. There isn't a lot that needs to be brought under my carport, and plenty of room for what does need to be protected. My house is sturdy and the roof is solid, and is set halfway up a hill, so flooding is unlikely. I'm about a block from firemen, police, sheriffs, state patrol, and the local hospital.
Basically, I'm in as good of shape as anyone in this area can be, better than most, but any good wishes, positive energy, and prayers for folks and critters in the path of this storm would be welcome.
So, I found out today that my uncle died last night. My mom's going to be going up to his funeral, but my first thought was "okay, so he's dead."
Don't get me wrong - it's not like I knew him well. I will probably grieve more over his brother, my other uncle, when he passes, because even if I don't know Uncle George any better than I knew Uncle Dennis, I have more in common with Uncle George, and have fond memories of visiting him. Uncle Dennis was just my mother's brother - Uncle George is the uncle who was quiet, but had a certain dry humor, who collected books and comics and let his (pre?)teen niece read his Judge Dredd collection when my siblings were out roaming around the woods or shopping or whatever the hell they were doing when we visited when I was a kid. I think the others saw Dennis as the fun uncle because he'd take them out to do stuff, but George was my favorite.
Still, I am saddened by his passing, but more by the fact that I never took the chance to get to know him better. Most of that sadness, though, is for my mother, for his brother, and for his wife and children. I grieve, I suppose, for the ones left behind.
But maybe it will come.
Probably not, though. And my apologies, it seems that only death brings me back to posting on LJ. I'll try to post something more cheerful soon.
A few days ago, I came home late from work and found that Addy not only hadn't made it to the litterbox, but that he'd left a trail of bloody pee. He'd been lethargic and off his feed for a couple days, but I thought he had a kitty cold. The pee told me otherwise, but it was late and the nearest emergency vet is over 20 miles away. He seemed uncomfortable but he was drinking and moving around, so I decided to wait until morning when I could take him to his regular vet.
In the morning, he was barely responding, and when I was taking care of the litterboxes, I saw that there was a pool of blood where he had been sleeping the night before. I shoved him in a carrier and drove down to the vet. The vet was making no promises, and admitted Addy might not pull through.
He rallied, and it looked like he was going to pull through, but it was not to be. He died this afternoon. Now he'll be cremated, and his ashes spread across the fields of a local farm. I thought he might have liked the idea of being out in the sunshine and fresh air, and his body will help bring new life to the earth.
I've had him 10 years, since he was rescued from the Gulfport area after Hurricane Katrina. He was sweet, shy, big, beautiful, and had the softest fur of any cat I've ever known, and a tiny meow like a kitten's. I'll miss him.
